


Blizzards And Their Effectiveness In Attention Getting

by tatou



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: 1st, Gen, kinkmeme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 06:16:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/880401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatou/pseuds/tatou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kinkmeme prompt fill: Jack said he'd tried everything to get people to notice him, so what if that had extended to getting the Guardian's attention as well? Maybe the infamous Easter Sunday blizzard of '68 wasn't just Jack being irresponsible, but his way of trying to get some attention from Bunny? For better or worse, at least it got him noticed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blizzards And Their Effectiveness In Attention Getting

**Author's Note:**

> Going through my fic blog archives and realized there were some works I haven't posted. Trying to get them all on AO3 for better archiving :^)

There’s snow everywhere and Easter is ruined.

 

Jack lowers himself to the ground, quickly making his way through the alley he’s hidden in to peer out at the city.

 

Freakishly large snow drifts crust the sidewalks; ice slicks along the busy roads and busy shoppers and civilians cling to whatever they can reach for stability. Far across the street, Jack spots a cluster of brightly painted eggs nestled into a windowsill. Grinning, he blows on the palm of his hand and a strong gust of wind and heavy snowflakes sweeps through the street. The people shriek and duck for cover; distantly he hears a crash and shout.

 

A thick blanket of snow covers the eggs now, and just in time he sees a group of children skidding by the sidewalk, baskets in hand and looking terribly disappointed. One of them, alarmed at the sidewalk’s icy state, lets out a little yelp of surprise and flails for help. He knocks into his companions and they all go sliding down the street. Jack whoops with laughter and hops up onto a nearby fire-escape ladder, flying the rest of the way up onto the roof to examine his handiwork.

 

It’s absolute chaos. His heart beats thunderously in his chest, hands suddenly trembling. He’s sure to get a reaction now.

 

Down in the park, he freezes the lake over. People who had been taking a leisurely Sunday stroll through the scenery stop and gaze around them in confusion and awe. Across the street, the church opens up its doors and its Easter Sunday participants flee, eager to get home before the blizzard gets any worse.

 

He hovers around them, heart jumping in excitement at their words.

 

“Freak blizzard..out of nowhere!”

 

“Shit, I’ve forgot my gloves!”

 

“Alice, we’re in church! Don’t swear!”

 

“Mom, what’ll happen to all the eggs? Can we still go to the egg hunt?”

 

That last one catches his attention. Jack crouches to look at the little girl who’d spoken. Her eyes shine with disappointment, almost ready to spill over with tears. Her mother clucks at her in reassurance, pulling together the buttons on the girl’s coat.

 

“Look outside, honey. The Easter bunny’s probably hiding _himself_ , right now. It’s too cold out there for any egg hunting, okay? Let’s go home and see if he’s hidden any in the house.”

 

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” Jack chuckles, watching them go. In all the times he’s encountered the Easter bunny, they’ve exchanged few, if any, words. But he does seem to have a strong dislike towards the colder climates.

 

He’s just headed back to the park when he’s bodily slammed into a tree by something rather large. It knocks the wind straight out of him and takes him utterly by surprise. The great oak he’s pressed against shudders, disdainfully shaking the snow from its branches and down into great heaps around its trunk. Some of it lands on Bunnymund’s shoulders.

 

Oh. Bunnymund.

 

The Pooka is absolutely furious. His paws grip tight into Jack’s arms, claws close enough to puncture his skin. His breaths come in hot puffs of air, ghosting against Jack’s face and neck. He is now officially closer to the Easter bunny than he’s ever been in his life. It makes his hands tremble as they scrabble up to the guardian’s chest, halfheartedly trying to push him away.

 

“Frost!” Bunnymund snarls. “What the bleedin’ hell d’you think you’re doing?”

 

“I could ask you the same thing.” Jack retorts, masking the excited tremors in his voice by giving the exquisitely downy fur beneath his palms another shove. But Bunnymund is larger, stronger. He doesn’t budge an inch. “I’m just doing my job here. Shouldn’t you be hiding eggs or something?”

 

“Bit hard to do that when I’ve got a blizzard on my tail, don’t you think?” The Pooka's accent is strange and intriguing-Jack hates the effect that voice has on him. He can’t speak; he feels utterly intent on focusing on the sound of it. He breathes hard, having just caught his breath; the closeness between them is undeniable, and it’s more contact than they’ve ever had. It’s exactly what he’s been looking for, exactly what he caused the blizzard for.

 

“Y’know. It bein’ spring and all, one would think your skinny arse wouldn’t be hanging around here.” Bunnymund continues, oblivious to Jack’s glee.

 

Jack can’t respond. He’d honestly had an answer ready, but the anger and urgency in those green eyes has him pinned. The exhilaration of finally having Bunnymund here, right against him refuses to wear off. His heart races, and Jack swallows, throat working to find any kind of response. He sees the guardian’s ears twitch attentively, and, frowning, Bunnymund leans back a little to get a better view of the boy he’s trapped.

 

“Look, I didn’t mean to scare you, alright? I’m just tryin’ to do my job, and it’s a bit hard to have an egg hunt when all my hard work’s covered in your soddin’ snow.” He says.

 

Then Jack makes the mistake of saying “Well maybe you’re just not hiding them well enough.”

 

Bunnymund laughs shortly before leaning in close, so close that their noses almost touch. “Or maybe you should just get out of my way.”

 

They’re too close now. Their faces are almost pressed together, bodies too close that any passerby would see it as intimate. The guardian’s body heat is beautiful and welcoming, not bothersome to Jack in the least. He grins, his face lighting up at the hint of a challenge and mischief. “What if I don’t?”

 

The Pooka doesn’t seem the least bit surprised by his answer. He doesn’t say anything for a moment. He just stares at Jack, his eyes boring intently into the winter spirit’s as though they were prying out his secrets and intentions like pages from a book. His ears are perked at attention, nose and whiskers on the alert to some sensory news Jack himself can’t pick up.

 

He smirks just then, as though he’s found what he wants. He leans in closer still until the cold wet of his nose touches Jack’s. Surprised into submission, Jack goes completely still, hands unconsciously clutching into the Pooka’s thick fur. That wet nose glides down gently towards his jaw, and Jack shudders at the sensation. He can feel Bunnymund’s nose and whiskers twitching, taking in his scent. It’s much, much more than he’d bargained for and suddenly he’s lightheaded and giddy, tilting his head back as furry lips make themselves known against his neck. There’s a hard nip at his skin and he gasps loudly; his heart beats harder than he’s ever known it to. It feels good and it hurts and it’s nothing he’s ever felt before.

 

Which is why he lets out a small, disappointed whine when Bunnymund pulls away, smirking so victoriously that it sends a thrill of excitement up Jack’s spine.

 

“Then I’ll be damned if I let you take me by surprise again, eh mate?” Bunnymund asks with a grin, and suddenly he’s gone, speeding down a tunnel before Jack can take in another breath.

 

He staggers out from beneath the tree and throws himself into the air, letting the wind take him back to the city. His bare feet hit the icy ground and he stumbles past the pedestrians, smiling so euphorically that if any of them could see him they’d be alarmed. Jack brushes his neck with a cold hand, wincing slightly as he touches over the reddened welt Bunnymund left on his skin. That’s going to bruise for sure.

 

It suddenly occurs to him what just happened back in the park. They may not even be on such terrible terms now..but where's the fun in that? Bunnymund may have had the upper hand, but Jack’s determined to get to him again. He’ll just need to cause more blizzards.

 

He doesn't hesitate to get the winds howling again, and soon enough there are thick snowflakes sloughing through the streets, whipping up a frenzy. People clamor through the streets, rushing indoors and scrambling to get warmer clothing on. Any chances Bunnymund had of fixing Easter are desperately slim now, and the thought makes Jack smirk. He knows that's not going to stop the Pooka, however, and finds out he's right as he flies through the city again.

 

Just below, Bunnymund ducks in and out of windows, leaving eggs hidden behind lamps and tucked inside waiting baskets. He makes hard work of it, and doesn't spot Jack hovering some distance away.

 

"Nice save, 'roo!" He calls out.

 

He twists around in time to avoid the egg that goes flying his way. Bunnymund stands tall on the roof's ledge, ignoring the gusts of wind that howl past him. "I'd get outta here if I were you, Frost!" He calls out. "Y'don't want an angry bunny chasin' after you."

 

Jack smiles, gripping his staff tightly. "I dunno, Bunny. I wouldn't call that a bad thing."

 

He leaves Bunnymund there, laughing as he goes. He's already impatient for next year's Easter.

 


End file.
